Perdition
by Evil Windstar
Summary: Bakura reflects on what he did during the reign of the Pharaoh and how he came to be inside the Sennen Ring. BH. HR. KJ. Yaoi.


Perdition

By Evil Windstar

Summary: Bakura reflects on what he did during the reign of the Pharaoh and how he came to be inside the Sennen Ring. B/H. H/R. K/J. Yaoi.

Pairing: Bakura/Reshed(Honda). Set(Seto)/Anubis(Jounouchi). Ryou/Honda

Notes: I know nothing what goes on during the Ancient Egyptian Arc. I just picked up some fuzzy details here and there and created this. There are multiple storylines going on here, past and present. The present is during the Battle City Arc when they're on Kaiba's blimp. The parts Set/Anubis play in this is further explained in my other fic, "At the End" which focuses more on them.

Disclaimer- I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Never have and never will.

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Quietly thinking to myself

Sharing half our mind instead of none

The shaking just begun

The pleasantries are gone,

This sad exchange pleases neither one of us

So we finally gave up

Meanings tend to give out

The time was gone to act out

This living torture, living torture

No talking when I want you to listen

No talking cuz it's living torture, living torture

Don't know why, don't know why, we can't stand aside

(I don't want your many faces

We don't see right)

If I had known back then

Whatever I know now

I'd think I'd have answers but I don't know why

So we finally gave up

The meaning tend to give out

The time was gone to act out

But here I am and I'm still living!

"Sad Exchange", Finger Eleven

Once he was assured that the two bodies lying next to him were fast asleep, Honda Hiroto carefully unwound himself from the warm body of Otogi and crept out of bed. He wasn't quite sure how he ended up in the boy's arms, but it still felt nice to feel wanted, to be loved. Something that his best bud Jounouchi Katsuya already experienced in his rival's arms. He wasn't jealous, not of his best friend, nor the ruthless CEO who managed to cut out Jou's heart, managing to spit on it and stomp on it all in a second. No, he was jealous of the fact he hadn't made his move on a certain white-haired boy who was currently knocked out, all courtesy of Yami.

A camera centered on him as soon as he walked out of the room. He could feel it. He could feel Kaiba's eyes on him, and it unnerved him that Kaiba was watching their every move as long as they remained up here.

He turned to the camera and flicked his middle finger at it in his self-righteous anger and made his way to the infirmary. He was sure that Kaiba smirked at the silly unthreatening gesture. The cold bastard didn't even stop his blimp to leave Ryou in a proper place for him to heal! Plus there were more than enough reasons for hating Kaiba, one of the them including hurting Jou, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Someday the bastard would pay for what he did. Sooner or later it was going to catch up to him. And Honda took delight from that; fate had a way of serving out justice (often in cruel manner).

Though he felt like a criminal with all the cameras on the walls and the ceilings, sneaking his way to Ryou's room. He felt like he was going out to meet his forbidden lover for a delightful time of carnal touches.

He instantly dismissed the notion out his mind. He knew he felt something for the boy he was going to look. He told himself he was just going to reassure himself Ryou was all right. But Honda wasn't fooled. The real reason was that this was the perfect opportunity to be awed, and stare, at the feminine beauty that Ryou had. There was something Ryou had Honda found irresistible. Maybe it was innocence that surrounded him, the gentle boy automatically assumed the best out of everybody, kind of like Yugi and Shizuka did. Yet... yet he wasn't going to their rooms to check up on them, now was he?

No, he wasn't. Damn Kaiba to hell and back.

Thankfully the cameras could not get a good look in his flaming cheeks as he ducked his head. Thank god for small mercies.

Suddenly he was there, staring at Ryou's sweet pale face. The door made a soft click as it shut itself away from prying eyes.

It was wrong. Wrong to see such a lovely face twisted in pain and torment. The wound in his arm had reopened when he was released from the spirit's control. He was so light, so painfully light when Honda carried him on his back to his room after the duel with Yami. He almost wanted to cry.

What had the spirit done to him? (Not sure which spirit he meant: Yami or Bakura)

He sat on the chair, which Anzu left when she retired to sleep. Now it was his turn to watch over Ryou and this time he would not fail to protect him. He gently took Ryou's hand and much to his amazement, Ryou's slender fingers curled around his.

He stared a bit at the hand and studied it. It was so different from his own. His hands were rough from all the sports he played in school and his nails were all bitten and jagged at the edges. But Ryou's, Ryou's hands were small and dainty, an artist's hands. They seem so small as they clutched Honda's own large hand.

Honda proceeded to do what he set out to do. Wait and watch. Wait to see the eyes that haunted in his dreams to open once again to blessed light.

Seto Kaiba watched with heavy amusement as his cameras caught Honda make a very naughty gesture at him and marched his way to that crazed friend of his. He snickered as his graceful fingers kept on clicking away in the keyboard.

Kaiba directed all of his cameras to track Honda's every move. It amused him. He would always turn and glare at the cameras and make more gesticulations at him.

Kaiba couldn't help the spike of jealousy that Honda had the pleasure to be in Jounouchi's bed and he didn't. Of course that was kind of his fault, but that was beside the point.

He once owned all rights to Jounouchi's body and he once had the lovely power of having Jounouchi writhing under him with passionate desire. That was all gone and now that short rival of his that claimed to be the "pharaoh" had Jounouchi. Had him in every possible way that Kaiba never had him. Jounouchi never smiled at him with that sweet smile he gave Mutuo now. Nor did he ever squeeze his hand in reassurance that he was behind him in every step of the way to stop Ishtar from his evil deeds-

NO! This was insane. He did not want to want Jounouchi back. No this was impossible. He was the ruthless CEO of Kaiba Corporations and he had control over everything that he own!

But why, why wasn't he able to control his hormones, and his feelings, whenever he started to think about _him_? Life was really unfair.

When he pushed his adopted father out of a window, he told himself that he would never regret anything he would do because he sure as hell didn't regret murdering his "father".

But now looking back on what he done, Kaiba wanted to have Jounouchi back in his arms and he would be willing to give up almost anything to have him back.

There were some minor things Kaiba wouldn't give up even if his life depended on it. His brother for one, being the most important of them all. Second would be his beloved Blue Eyes White Dragons. Third, would be his ambitious quest to claim all three Egyptian God cards. Fourth would be his other quest to redeem his title of being the number one duelist of the world once again. Having Jounouchi would be a plus, if he could have all the above without no problem what so ever.

Yeah, the world is freaking flat, Kaiba and the sky is green. Might as well dream on.

Dream where Jounouchi was his in every possible way and where his past did not haunt him. There he could love Jounouchi with all that was left of him.

Too bad that could never come true.

Too bad for there was nothing for Jounouchi to save of him. Too bad.

Here they were. Two minds living in one body. And for the life of them, they could not get along. Ryou was too weak, too cowardly for his darker counterpart and the spirit was too ruthless to Ryou's liking. And not to mention the sadistic streak that ran within the spirit. He took delight in seeing others in pain.

But still, Ryou's inclination was to heal what was damaged, though his yami may well be on his way to his own perdition. He always wanted to help others in their own sufferings, he wanted to know why people acted the way he did. His father told him one day he would be a prestigious psychiatrist for his empathy for people.

So this was his reason for staring at his yami's soul room door. He had risen his hand to knock politely but he dropped his hand, not certain how the spirit would receive him. The spirit had lost the duel against Yami Yugi, victory was snatched away from his hands. Ryou could not understand the deep hatred the spirit had for the ancient pharaoh. He could feel it whenever he ever heard Yami's voice or when he saw him.

The hatred festered and grew with each passing moment, but Ryou could also sense lost that laid beneath hatred but it was there nevertheless. The spirit was hurting and hurting each day that passed by as he was locked within the Millennium Ring.

And Ryou wanted to know why.

Wanted to know what made his yami so unmerciful, so cruel to others. Even to him.

He was sure that one day long ago the spirit had some feelings, though probably not a lot. Though which type of emotions that spirit could still feel had to be answered.

Ryou again brought his hand up and was about to knock when the door silently opened by itself. Immediately, he could feel the coldness of the room, compared to his own soul room.

The light from the hallway did not penetrate the darkness of the room, in fact the light seem to retreat from it rather than to touch it. He peered inside and looked in the direction of a corner where the spirit usually liked to sit in.

"Bakura?" he called out softly, afraid that the spirit would find a way to hurt him if he was too loud. Ryou sat down on the floor, leaning against the doorway.

Bakura glared at him from his dark corner, and took note that his hikari never set a foot into his soul room of eternal darkness. _::What do you want from me?::_ he growled ferociously.

"Nothing," came the soft reply.

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::Do not lie my beloved hikari. Nobody in your world, or in mine, does not want something from somebody. Many craved power like that foolish Set who lost everything in a gamble.::

"I just want..." Ryou started to reply back.

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::Want what?:: Bakura snapped angrily. _::I don't have all day!::_

"I...I," he stuttered but he swallowed back his fear and gathered his courage. "I want to know why. I want to know why you act the way you do."

Bakura laughed harshly. _::Ah I see. You want to label me as your psychologists do to those pathetic mortals who pay endlessly just to hear themselves talk-::_

"No," whispered Ryou, his voice small and insignificant. Bakura fell silent. "That's not what I want to do. I want to understand you!" The words echoed throughout the room. Ryou felt if he had shouted (as if he could ever shout. He never did even when he was angry), the dark spirit would have ignored his existence and retreat back to his own personal world. But with his small whisper, Bakura actually listened for once, miracles could happen… How ironic.

He continued softly. "You're hurting. You've been hurting for a long time and it has something to do with Yugi's yami," he paused as he heard the spirit growl, "and Honda."

Silence was his reply and that was all he needed to know he was right. "I'm sorry to whatever happened to you when you were alive and had your own body, but this is my body and I intend to keep it that way, whether you like it or not."

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::I'm still alive you fool,:: Bakura sneered from his corner. _::You cannot banish me from this body, only the one who put me here in the first place can.::_

"Do you really think Yami is going to let you regain control of my body when we wake up?" Ryou paused for effect, "He's going to banish you to the Shadow Realm."

A cold laugh. _::I've passed the point beyond caring, my pretty hikari. I do not much care about my fate anymore. The flame of life died within me when I lost everything to the pharaoh. I have no hope.::_

"No hope? You do have hope. You hope that you will possess all seven Sennen items, for what I have yet to find out."

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::You do not realize the full potential of the items, young fool,:: Bakura hissed. _::Pegasus did. You know that he wanted to bring back his beloved back from the grave.::_

He nodded. "I do, but it is impossible. Bodies cannot be brought back to life and souls cannot be-"

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::Souls can be damned! Damned to live forever in eternal darkness!:: Ryou could see that he had risen in his anger with his fists up and eyes glinting madly. _::To be alive and forever live in eternal agony, knowing that Reshed is dead and that I cannot bring him back is to be damned! The pharaoh knew what he was doing when he damned me and his own brother to the Shadow Realm!::_

"The pharaoh's own brother? To the Shadow Realm?" Ryou shook his head in denial. He knew that the ancient pharaoh was a fairly decent person once you got to know him. "Yami would never do that!"

Bakura laughed darkly in his mind, settling himself back into his corner. _::Yes, he did. They fought to the death, until the pharaoh played a card that Set was not expecting: his lifebond with Anubis. Oh, Yami used this to his advantage, very much so.::_ A cold laugh echoed in Ryou's mind, _::Let's just say that Anubis found Set's body without a soul.::_

"Why? Why would he do such a thing to his own brother?" Ryou inquired.

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::Oh, simply because Set had something that Yami wanted and what the pharaoh wants, the pharaoh gets, it's as simple as that. Though the pathetic pharaoh did not get what he wanted even when his brother's body was hanged later.::

"I- I see," Ryou's voice wavered. He swallowed back the vile that rose within him.

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::No, you don't see. How can you see?:: There was heavy scorn present in his mind-voice. _::You see nothing but the pureness of others. And that is what you are trying to do with me. Well I might as well tell you now that you will not succeed. There is no purity in me, just death. I bring death. Everything I touch dies. There is nothing for me.::_

Ryou stayed silent and it suspended in the tense air for a very long time. It seemed Ryou was trying to make up his mind about something but he wasn't sure if it would work. He swallowed, trying to rewet his throat as his lips struggled to say what he wanted to say.

"There is something for you, Bakura." He could feel the glaring yellow eyes on his back as he turned to face the hallway. His voice echoed of what he propositioned to his yami. "Tell me about Reshed, your lover who you loved with your heart and soul. Tell me what Yami did to you that makes you so hateful to everything that moves. Tell me… what happened to Set and Anubis. Tell me… your side of the story as we await for our body to heal itself." Ryou held his breath, minutes, time itself, agonizingly passed. Tick, tick, tick. Tick.

He jumped about three feet in the air when he heard the rough, scratchy voice of Bakura. His real voice, Ryou realized. Through their time together, he had never heard Bakura speak aloud. It always through the mind-voice that Bakura communicated to him and when the yami was in control of the shared body, he would use Ryou's own voice.

"This is the first time since three thousand years have passed that I have used my voice. The last time I used it was when Reshed fell by Enkil's sword, dying to protect me and to give time to his lord and friend Anubis. Oh how he died in vain," Bakura's voice cracked at this admission. His throat was really dry just by saying those few sentences. He swallowed noisily.

"Why did he died in vain? I do not understand…" Ryou's voice trailed off once he felt the glaring eyes on him again. Even though he couldn't see them, he still flinched.

"Let me tell the tale, you… fool!" Again, Bakura's voice cracked. "Interrupt me… again, I shall send you to the Shadows. You cannot hope to begin to understand what happened to us… over three thousand years ago, to me, to Yami Marik, and to… Yami." Though his voice would struggle every now and then to produce the sounds he hadn't uttered in a long time, he managed to get through his tale. Ryou found it amazing how one person could go through all of that and not break down.

"I lived in a small, insignificant village that was on such a small island that it wasn't even on the map. We lived in peace, we cultivated from the land and took only what we needed, nothing more. The first sixteen years of my life I was happy with my brother, sisters, cousins, my family. I thought that nothing in the world could destroy this peace we had. Why would somebody ever want to?

The island was located about five hundred miles off the Egyptian coast. An island that would offer no resources to them, except to the people who knew the land. We never saw an Egyptian, or anybody dark-skinned for that matter. We lived in blissful ignorance, totally unaware of the civil discord that internalized itself in the Black Land. We did not care about these Egyptians, as long as it did not affect us, we could live as we wanted.

When I was born, my father had promised me to our chief's first-born daughter. We married when I was fourteen and a year later I had twins, a son and a daughter. They lived with their mother and I would always visit them. I can still hear their happy cries in my mind whenever they saw me. They were so beautiful, like their mother, they looked nothing like me. They had bright red hair, fiery as the sun, and lovely green eyes as bright as the fields of fresh grass. I remember their soft hands running through my pale hair as they played with it. They were so fascinated by it.

They were about two years old when the Black Army came to our island. We heard about the destruction they left behind in other villages. They were like locusts, destroying everything in their path, even children could not be spared mercy. The aspect of them coming to our village frightened my young wife. I told her to leave as soon as possible with the others. But it was too late.

They came in swarms, thriving in the chaos they created. Anything they set their sight on, they destroyed with devilish delight. With their Death Squads, they killed old men, the crippled, the useless by forcing them on their knees and then beheading them. The sucking babes were killed in their mother's arms and then the mothers were killed also but not before having their way with her, as they rode the mother they suckled at her heavy milk-ridden breasts. The old women they… first they had their way with them, riding them as a stallion rides a mare, and then they killed them also because they had no other use of them. My mother and my aunts suffered this fate. I saw them raped my mother in front of my eyes, the one who had given me life. My father and uncles were beheaded. The strong, the able… the ones pleasing to the eye they kept alive and the rest were raped and killed, the men and the women. But the ones allowed to live… ah the irony of it. The ones alive suffered a fate worse than death.

They stayed at our village for a week and each day they would take two people to have their pleasure. On the second day, they chose my wife and… me. By the time, they were done she was broken beyond repair. She could not see from her right eye and she was traumatized to the point of not being able to speak. Nothing could sway her will to die. On the fifth day, she was dead. I never learned the fate of my lovely twins.

With me… only the roughest of soldiers had me. I can still feel their heavy hands pawing on my hair and their shaft tearing me. I fought them the first day but my strength was nothing compared to theirs, hardened by years of war… also they liked it when I fought, it gave them more reason to hurt me, to put their knives against my flesh and see it bleed.

The first night was hell, it seemed all the soldiers had me because I could not walk without falling and blood would flow down between my legs. They called me the "black soldier's white whore". My own people called me that! They saw me taken every night, in front of them. They saw how the soldiers always choose me, above all others. My white hair and my skin being pale fascinated them. My beauty, they saw, outshone everybody else's, even women's… The soldiers had me every night… I was beaten, tortured, raped beyond recognition but after the first night, I no longer cried out. I would not give them, the soldiers, my people, what they wanted to see, to see me broken. I would lie quietly as my ass was pounded into the hard dirt as a dog takes his bitch. Sometimes another soldier would thrust his cock in my face and have me suck him with a sword at my throat. But as I suffer quietly, I vowed I would have my revenge, no matter if it would take me thousands of years to have it.

As a prisoner of war, I was bound to them. Nothing could break my enslavement, save for death. When my wife died, I desperately wanted to join her in the eternal darkness, but they took precautions to keep sharp objects away from all the slaves. We became whores, to be used as our lords please, to use us as they willed…"

To be continued…


End file.
